


All Work, All Day

by Anonymous



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Gen, Omorashi, Varian's 20 here, Wetting, science words but i dont know what i'm talking about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-23 21:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21087980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Varian's trying to invent something for the princess. But when Varian works, he has a tendency to forget about more pressing things.





	All Work, All Day

**Author's Note:**

> hi! heed the tags. please don't read this if youre underage or if you don't like the content.

Ruddiger’s paws scuttle over the stone floor as Varian works. The brunette carefully uses a pipette to deposit a small amount of liquid into an erlenmeyer flask, gently rocking the cloudy solution within until it gradually turns clear. The raccoon climbs the workbench with some difficulty (he’s been gaining weight with the steady supply of food provided by Varian) and the alchemist bumps his pet with his elbow before quickly steadying the solution again.

“Hey! Watch it, Ruddiger. You know how delicate this compound is! I could’ve melted your fur clean off!” Varian uses his free hand to wag a finger at the raccoon, who chitters noncommittally in response. “Okay, I know it’s not_ that _dangerous. But it’s hard to prepare! And I want to get it right for Repunzel.”

Varian was, at the moment, working on a special kind of paint. Paint additive, if you were being specific. Rapunzel’s birthday was coming up, and the alchemist was attempting to make her a gift. A two part mixture composed of a gel and a spray, it would allow for instantaneous setting of the medium it was mixed with, eliminating the frustration of accidentally brushing up against a canvas only to ruin one’s artwork (and clothes). It wasn’t as extravagant as his usual work, but the process of creating it was just as hard.

Varian carefully pours the mixture into a flask and the flame below it light with a click-click-click. Now all that was needed was to let it reduce. The last attempt he had reduced too far, and it had burned into a hard crust on the bottom of the boiler. And the attempt before that had reduced correctly, but he had messed up the proportions when he added it to the acrylic polymer, so it had to be trashed. Varian had been working all day on this. Trial after trial, one failure and another. But it would work this time! He knew that it would. 

The sound of his stomach growling broke Varian out of his thoughts. It wasn’t unusual for him to forget to eat while working. He even kept a small drawer in his lab of emergency snacks after he had to make his way home pale faced and shaking after working for a day straight, energy sapped. He’d also taken to keeping jugs of water at his workstation, to prevent dehydration and put out accidental fires. Keeping an eye on the steady flame, Varian rummages through the drawer until he finds a package of oat biscuits. They’re stale, he has no idea how long they’ve been opened, but there’s no mold on them so he eats them anyways, washing them down with a long drink from the water jug. The compound is reducing slower than previous attempts, which he attributes to the lower temperature. He doesn’t want to mess up again.

As he tidies up his work space (what a joke, his lab has never been tidy), Varian finds himself shifting his weight back and forth on his legs. He pays no mind to it, the biscuits were old after all, maybe his stomach is upset? He glances over to the bubbling solution. It’s reduced to just over double what he needs it to be. Giving it a cautious poke with a stir stick confirms his assumptions that it’s still quite thin, not nearly viscous enough to mix with paint without having it run all over the pallet. The strange feeling in his stomach shifts again and Varian finally focuses enough to remember what it means.

What a terrible time to need a bathroom.

Varian doesn’t want to leave the compound… but if he turns off the heat now, the mixture will solidify too early and he’ll have to start all over again! He doesn’t have the time to create another batch before the polymer destabilizes. As he stops to think, Varian can feel his bladder clench painfully. Quickly, he crosses his legs to ease the pressure.

_Okay. Think. Pros and Cons._ Varian starts to pace in an attempt to keep himself calm. _Pros of leaving: You get a bathroom. Cons: Your work is ruined. The princess will be sad without a gift, right? And your whole lab could burn down!_

He can wait. He can wait! Slightly hunched over to ease the pain in his abdomen, he pokes the bubbling liquid with a stir stick again. It beads, but drips off the stick soon after. He drops the glass rod to the ground as he momentarily loses control, glass shards skittering across the lab floor. A gloved hand reaches down to hold himself through his pants.

_Another pro! You don’t wet your pants like some kid!_

Deciding that the fire can be left alone just enough for him to run home and back, he turns and practically sprints to the door. But today he just can’t seem to catch a break, and he forgets about the tripwire in front of the door.

Smoke fills the air and he resists coughing in an attempt to keep his pants dry. He tugs his boots against the sludge encasing them, but they don’t budge. His bladder sends a jolt of pain through his body and Varian gasps as the front of his pants begins to display a prominent wet spot. He pats his apron down for the neutralizing powder but it’s not there. “No. No no nonono-” Varian frantically searches through his pockets until he spots the vial over on his workbench. He must've taken it out when Ruddiger got stuck last night and forgot to put it back. One hand still holding himself, he moves to undo the straps on his boots but he can’t do it one handed. If Ruddiger was here, he could beg the raccoon to bring the vial to him. But Varian has no such luck.

Squeezing his legs together as tight as he could manage, Varian quickly attempts to pop the buckles on his boots. But without the pressure of his hand, he quickly feels his body giving up, the wet patch on his trousers spreading down his thighs. He tries to hold himself again, but it’s no use. It’s started, and Varian just stands there miserably in a puddle of urine as he waits for it to be over. How can he expect himself to be a great alchemist when he can’t even keep his pants dry?

The clink of glass on tile shocks him back to reality. Looking down, there’s a salt shaker rolling towards him. He looks over to his workbench and sees that the flame has been switched off at what looks like the perfect composition. “Wha-”

Movement catches his eye and he sees the tip of Ruddiger’s bushy tail disappearing around a pile of scrap metal. Varian grabs the neutralizing agent, shaking it over the sludge coating his boots. Now he just has to find the change of clothes he keeps (in case of explosions, or fires, or other scientific mishaps), clean up the mess and nobody else will know. Well, except for Ruddiger.

At least raccoons don’t judge.

**Author's Note:**

> i take comms over at kofi.com/mchks!


End file.
